


Forgotten Memories

by blue_jack



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-08
Updated: 2011-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:15:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/533867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_jack/pseuds/blue_jack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It just means he’s completely unprepared to see Chris again in the flesh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgotten Memories

It’s been a long time since he’s seen Chris, almost—he blinks. A really long fucking time. He doesn’t even remember when he’d last thought about him—no, wait, there were those photos Simon had emailed, and Karl had laughed, because they’d been ridiculous, the two of them making fools of themselves in some bar. And then his smile had faded after a while, the memory of saying goodbye to Chris starting to encroach, and he’d pushed it back, had slipped his phone into his pocket and gone to the next meeting or whatever the hell he’d been doing that day and hadn’t let himself think any more about it.

It just means he’s completely unprepared to see Chris again in the flesh.

The smile on his face is totally sincere, he can tell, has spent enough time with him that he learned all his various expressions, the tilt of his mouth, the wrinkles around his eyes, and Karl knows Chris is happy to see him. It takes him by surprise, and he smiles helplessly in return, feeling his cheeks twinge with how wide they stretch out.

“Fuck, man, it’s been forever!” Chris says, and it’s so easy, they fall into the hug like no time has passed, their bodies hitting each other a little too hard in their enthusiasm, because there’s no other reason Karl’s chest should ache the way it does.

Chris is skinnier, not much, but enough that he doesn’t fill Karl’s arms quite as full as he used to. And he doesn’t hold Karl as tightly either, although there’s no reason to think he should. But it’s a real hug at least, not over and done with because the paps will spread rumors of infighting before the next movie even starts if they don’t do the token embrace. It feels better than it should. It feels like he’s taking a deep breath for the first time in forever.

“How have you been? How’s the family?”

He says something, is certain the right words are coming out of his mouth because he’s used to this, the chitchat, pulling out all the same answers while he’s thinking about something else entirely. He wonders if Chris will notice and call him on it, but he’s too distracted by the fading warmth all along his body as they separate to do the conversation any justice, by Chris’ cologne that’s triggered so many flashes of memory that it’s almost dizzying.

How has he forgotten all this?

“So how long are you in town?”

The question brings him back to the present, to blue eyes that are open and friendly, although they’d been sad and a little bitter the last they’d seen each other. It should make him feel relieved that Chris has moved on, that there are no hard feelings considering Chris had fought for them staying together, even though the distance and their schedules had made it impossible. But instead what he finds himself wondering is if Chris is thinking about all the months they’d spent living in each other’s pockets, like he is, if Chris feels anything for him at all anymore.

“Karl?”

He laughs sheepishly, rubs his face with his hand. “Sorry, I just got in this morning. I’m still waiting for my brain to catch up, I guess. You were saying?”

“Nah, it was nothing important.” He shrugs, and Karl can tell Chris knows he’s hiding something because he slides his sunglasses back on and sticks his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Look, I’m actually running a little late for a—”

“You free later on?” Karl asks, knowing Chris is giving him an easy out but not wanting to take it, even if it’d be the smarter choice. He watches the way Chris’ mouth quirks, and he can tell he’s trying to decide whether the offer is genuine or not. “Maybe for dinner? Or drinks afterward? Hell, I’d even let you drag me to one of those coffee shops you like so much where they have open mic poetry.”

“Wow, you must be desperate for company if you’re laying that out on the table,” Chris laughs, but his shoulders have relaxed, and he doesn’t mention being late for something again as they walk down the street.

Later on, after they’ve had lunch and then dinner and they sit through some of the worst poetry Karl has ever heard in his life (and Chris doesn’t even try to hide his unholy glee the whole time, the bastard), Chris asks again as he drops Karl off at his hotel, “How long are you in town, Karl?”

And it’s not that life has slowed down any, or that he thinks it’ll be any easier. But Karl _still_ can’t understand how he’s forgotten so much—like how loud Chris’ laugh is, as if he just can’t contain his happiness, or how frequently he licks his lips, going through tubes of ChapStick every month—and he feels cheated, feels angry at the thought of what other things he hasn’t remembered yet or hasn’t seen because Chris has changed, but he wasn’t there to watch it happen. He doesn’t want to miss out on anything else, not if he doesn’t have to.

So even though his plane is booked for tomorrow morning, and his agent is going to be fucking pissed when she finds out he’s canceled it and that he skipped out on the five meetings he had that day, he tells Chris the truth: “However long it takes.”


End file.
